Chapter 125: Panam
"Could Delamain have contracted some kind of virus?" Jack speculated.
"Who knows? Old Del's run self-diagnostics hundreds of times. He even paid engineers from other companies to do a full server scan, but they still found nothing."
V shook his head and said, "In the end, after all the fuss, they concluded that Del was functioning perfectly and couldn't figure out where the missing data went."
After hearing V's account of these strange occurrences, Jack was a bit taken aback. This sort of situation was definitely unsettling.
It was like having a parasitic bloodsucker worm its way into a person's body, yet being unable to locate where it was hiding.
Jack Wells couldn't help but wonder if Delamain had somehow been infected by a bizarre AI parasite program.
"And then? What happened after that?"
Jack pressed on, his curiosity piqued. Urban legends involving AI always had a way of capturing attention.
Clearing his throat to get rid of the chili powder stuck in it, V continued:
"Delamain then asked me to retrieve those rogue AI-controlled self-driving cars. But the little Delamain AIs told me they'd spotted something terrifying in the company's subnet."
"They said there was an AI called the Red Queen—an ill-tempered one—stealing Delamain's data and trying to take over the company."
"So, they refused to go back. It took a lot of effort to drag those little AIs back to Del."
V sighed, half-laughing, half-crying. He was more inclined to trust Delamain's self-diagnostics. Most likely, those little AIs were lying to break free from the company's control.
After hearing V's explanation, Jack couldn't help but ask, "V, do you think there really could be an AI stealing Delamain's data?"
"Impossible. Del's checked multiple times. There's no way he wouldn't have found this so-called Red Queen AI... Wait, the Red Queen?"
Mid-sentence, V froze as if struck by a sudden thought. He remembered that the AI in his own head was called the White Queen.
The Red Queen and the White Queen... Could they be related?
"No way! Could this be something the LA company implanted in Del?"
This realization hit V like a bolt of lightning. Considering LA's unmatched prowess in AI technology, it didn't seem far-fetched.
As V was about to share his hypothesis with Jack, he was interrupted by a heated argument erupting in a nearby private booth.
"What?! You gave me that job for the Maelstrom, and now those backstabbers have turned on me, and you're washing your hands of it?!"
"What the hell is this supposed to mean?"
"..."
Jack, ever curious, glanced in the direction of the commotion and burst out laughing. "Hahaha! V, I love watching two women go at it. This'll be good entertainment!"
Hearing Jack's carefree laughter, V silently rolled his eyes. When Mrs. Wells and Misty have an argument, Jack probably won't find it so amusing.
Ah, the eternal struggle of in-law relationships.
"No matter what, you owe me an explanation today! Either you make the Maelstrom bastards return my car and gun, or you compensate me for the loss and pay me the job commission!"
"Those scumbags breaking the rules is one thing, but is the Afterlife going to break its rules too?"
Following the crowd's gaze, V spotted the source of the commotion: a fiery female drifter wearing a reddish-brown leather work jacket. Her tight, dark jeans highlighted her well-defined curves.
But V wasn't in the mood to admire her figure. Instead, he focused on her style of dress.
Judging by her attire, V guessed she was a drifter from somewhere near the Badlands, though her exact tribe was unclear.
"Jack, do you know her?" V turned to ask.
"Uh... She looks familiar. I think I saw her in Heywood a few days ago. She's a drifter from the Aldecaldo tribe—goes by Panam Palmer!"
Jack smacked his head as the name came to him. Recently, he'd been mingling with various Night City factions as part of the Valentinos, and Panam's unfamiliar face had stuck with him.
"Panam, I'm just a fixer—an intermediary for merc jobs—not some omniscient god. No one wanted this mess to happen."
The Afterlife's owner and Night City's fixer queen, Rogue, was visibly annoyed by the hot-tempered drifter.
Looking at the furious Panam, who seemed ready to escalate things, Rogue felt a headache coming on.
If she didn't provide this fiery young woman with a satisfactory answer today, Panam might turn the Afterlife into a war zone.
"Hey, Rogue. Looks like you've got quite the problem on your hands. Need my help?"
At this moment, V put down his drink and approached, his tone warm and friendly. He wasn't being nosy for the sake of it—since the Afterlife was under LA's protection, it was in his best interest to handle any trouble here for his boss, Li Ang.
Seeing V approach, Rogue felt a surge of relief. She had a good impression of this young mercenary, who was always willing to take on any job, no matter how dangerous.
"I introduced this girl, Panam, to a gig for the Maelstrom. But those bastards took her car and gun instead of paying her, and now she's here causing a scene."
Rogue was equally furious at the Maelstrom for breaking the rules. No gang in Night City dared act this brazenly without consequences.
If she didn't send someone to deal with these punks, they might think the Afterlife's fixers were easy targets.
"Hah! What's the big deal? Just some scumbags from the Badlands robbing this girl? Leave it to me. I'll get her stuff back."
V chuckled lightly. As a former drifter himself, he was familiar with the Badlands and knew all too well how the Maelstrom operated.
Before he came to Night City, even he had been a victim of their robbery.
(Show your support and read more chapters on my Patreon: p@treon.com/psychopet. Thank you for your support!)